Power Rangers: Dark Reality ReMix
by Blindeye
Summary: This is my first Dark Reality ReMix. It is unfinished and probably will stay that way. Anyone who wants to pick up from where I left off just needs to e-mail me. Read and Enjoy!
1. Prologue

Power Rangers: World of Darkness  
  
Prologue:  
  
A little over ten years before our story takes place, aliens launched an attack on Earth. They struck from a secret base on the dark side of the moon, sending legions of warships and unleashing an army of robotic warriors against humankind. The aliens declared themselves The Machina Alliance. However, Earth was not taken completely by surprise. Elite troops from the armies of the world were amassed to create a team for the purpose of warding off the invasion. These soldiers were dubbed "The Rangers."  
  
The Rangers created a grand defense for Earth. They fought the aliens off Earth, back through space to their base on the moon in a short two months. The Rangers fought bravely to get the Machina the hell out of our solar system. This was when the Machina pulled the ace from their sleeve. A massive battle machine, dubbed the "Chimera" by the Rangers called "Victory" by the Machina, was brought to bear against Earth's Rangers. The firepower and versatility of this gigantic robot was terrifying. Simply the thought that anything like it could be created was weaponry enough to drive the bravest soldiers away. There was nothing humankind could do. The Rangers were being beaten back hard. Earth was back where it had started, trying to keep the robotic shock troops from slaughtering the entire race.  
  
One day, two of the Rangers stood their ground. They had somehow received incredible new technology. Whether it was Earth made or stolen from the Machina was not known. They wore full body power suits, making them the ideal vision of super soldiers. They tore through the Machina's front lines by themselves, they were winning what had been a hopeless war. These Rangers were more than the normal elite their true identities were never known, but the strange weaponry they wielded was devastating and their superhuman abilities eventually earned them the name "Power Rangers."  
  
These real-life superheroes managed to gain back the ground the normal forces of Earth had taken before in a week. The only thing that stood in the way of winning it all back was the Chimera. These two small yet powerful men still could not fight the technological monster. The rest of humanity thought, that the Machina would push even the Power Rangers back.  
  
But these two had their own trump card yet to play. Seemingly from nowhere, the Power Rangers brought forth their own battle machine, and took it straight to the Machina's headquarters. There was no footage of the behemoth, for it was not on the Earth for long, as the final battle took place on the dark side of the moon. The few people that did see it appear on Earth remember it to be in the shape of a bestial man, adorned with armor engraved with strange runes. They say it flew straight off the planet, brandishing a gigantic spear and took the Chimera on headfirst. The evening of the same day it emerged, it disappeared again, and the last of Machina were seen retreating into the depths of space, hopefully never to return.  
  
This was not, however, a total victory for the Power Rangers. Only one of them, the Black Ranger, returned from the final battle. His partner, the Green Ranger, had been killed.  
  
The Black Ranger said he was not going to stay, for there were many things that needed his attention, "Farewell, Earth. In times of future need, I will return to protect you all". This declaration was the last any human had ever seen of a Power Ranger, for with those words he disappeared from the face of the planet, vanishing into history.  
  
What remained of the original Rangers decided that another invasion was to be expected, and the cities of the world began preparing for it. Networks of underground shelters were created and the Rangers were always recruiting. The world had never felt so completely safe. Earth knew for the next ten years, the closest thing possible to world peace. The Rangers became everything; police, army, navy, air force, space force; the entire safety of the world was their job. The legacy of the Power Rangers only made them more popular and was remembered in movies and television, in multiple different interpretations.  
  
Then, the second invasion struck. Beams of light ripped through the atmosphere of the Earth and decimated Ranger installments, factories, and major cities centered completely on North America. The other countries of the world concentrated on their own defense and isolated themselves from the center continent of this new attack, not offering help. Near-crippled, the North American Rangers attempted retaliation, but could not find their target. Alien forces started appearing through portals that seemed to open up from the sky, dropping their soldiers to the ground. This different tactic of invasion was explained by one obvious fact, these aliens were not the Machina. Where the Machina were made up of seemingly sentient machines, these aliens were made up of a variety of different races, and they called themselves the Zedd Empire.  
  
It has been one month into the second invasion. North America is in ruins. The Zedd Empire has founded an 'Imperial City' in the heart of the continent to continue whatever plans they have for the planet. What is left of the American and Canadian citizens are sealed away in the few shelters that had not been decimated by the beams of light. Those humans who are left over ground can only run and hide for their lives, as the legions of the Zedd Empire hunt for them nightly, carrying their corpses back to their city for unknown purposes. The Rangers lay in small squadrons scattered underground, making small guerilla attacks on the Imperial City whenever they can.  
  
It seems to be only a matter of time before the same happens to the rest of the world. Humankind is without hope. This is where our story begins. 


	2. Ressurection of One

Power Rangers: World of Darkness Chapter 1: Resurrection of One  
  
The beginning of the second alien invasion of Earth had been in the form of beams of light that descended upon the planet's surface, crippling the human societies of North America. These beams left huge craters in the ground, scattered with debris from surrounding buildings, twisted metal from the sewers and underground shelters, and the bodies of hundreds of charred human corpses. The dust clouds never truly settled around these areas. These craters were usually silent and placid, albeit morbid. The peace of one in particular however, was being desecrated. A small rigid humanoid figure, the details of which were obscured by the clouds of dust, was moving unsteadily through the rubble was searching through the bodies. Its right arm was strangely misshapen, the forearm was elongated the hand was thin and rigid. It was this arm that was been passed over the bodies, searching for one in particular. It stopped over one in particular, and lights on the strange arm flashed in response. Shakily, the figure picked up the body and staggered boldly out from the crater. It walked out from the musty haze, its silver body glinted under the moonlight, although dust and mud was caked over most of its features. It trod to the remains of a cathedral, carrying the dark clothed corpse in its mechanical arms. The robot looked like at one time it was in very good condition and very advanced in technology, but whether it was damaged in an accident or it was aged, it was scorched and cracked in several areas. The left leg had a limp to it, which made its walking very shaky, causing it's loose parts to rattle as it moved onwards on its way. The strange right arm looked the newest on it; it was totally black and the forearm resembled some kind of gothic styled metal detector. It had a bulky pack welded to its back where a long metal antenna protruded upwards. Small red and blue lights glinted throughout its body, the largest of which was the single thin red eye that resided on the front half of its saucer shaped head. In black, over the surface of its body were letters of some strange language. On its chest was the largest set of letters, but they were in English and read: A.L.P.H.A-5. It stopped in the center of what was left of the ancient cathedral before the altar. It bent down on a knee and placed the body on the floor. It paused over the body for a moment, its eye scanning over it, then its vision hovered up the last standing wall of the cathedral behind the alter, where an large stained glass window that depicted Christ on the cross stood. The robot wondered how it managed to survive the original bombardment preceding the invasion, but then went back to its previous task. A small compartment in its lower front torso opened. It reached inside of it and brought out a small black box, with a deep red disc on the middle. It looked at the burnt, lifeless corpse before it. The male body was covered in torn black clothing, which may at one time resembled a robe with a white collar. His skin was charred black, but the silver necklace it wore, bearing a stylized crucifix, was still in decent shape and was only slightly melted. The robot then placed the black box on the midsection of the man. The box left from the mechanical hand and buried itself partly in the gut of the human and the disc illuminated a bright red color. The android stood up then, stepping back a few steps as the small box did its work. The box activated, making a sound like the striking of a match that grew to the sound of a bonfire as an orange energy field expanded from the black box, covering the man's entire body. The energy field sunk into the man's skin and the burns on his body began to recede. Soon he looked completely healthy. A momentary calm wafted over his body, the black box's light faded but red blinking lights over the surface of it foreshadowed that it wasn't done. The man opened his eyes and drew in a sharp breath of air. He looked to be 23 years of age, he was a Caucasian male of average height, and an athletic build. His hair was a disheveled short brown, and his eyes were a lighter brown. He looked down at himself, confused. His attention was at once at the black box on his gut as it suddenly began to glow again. The black box emitted a stronger red colored light from the disc in the center. Starting at the box, a red metallic film spread over the man's skin under his tattered clothes. It made a sound like it was burning the man's flesh as it covered him almost entirely, leaving only his head, hands and feet without its red sheen. Although it was mostly red, it was orange on his lower torso to his upper legs, and his upper arms. Black lines were also set on his body, dividing his the colors and outlining his major muscle structures. The man, completely terrified at this change, retreated backwards against the alter, raising his arms and looking under his shirt at the metallic gleam his body now had. "What?" he muttered softly to himself, unaware that the robot still standing by him was even there, "what is this?" "That," began the robot, startling the man. It spoke in a low wavering artificial voice as it continued, "is the dormant stage of your exoskeletal power suit." "My what?" the man said, confused, "Who, or what are you? What's going on." The robot remained silent for a moment, small sparks fell from under it's red eye as it's voice rekindled. "My designation is A.l.p.h.a-5," it recited, "I am-" "I know what you are!" cried the man, interrupting the robot, "You're a Machina! You're invading Earth again! I knew it!" The man got up off his feet and began backing away from the robot, fear in his eyes. "No," Alpha said, attempting to correct the man, but that didn't help. "Get away from me!" the man said and bolted around the back of the cathedral, looking for an exit. He ran around the back but found only rubble. Alpha remained patiently still where it stood. The man glanced back at it, and sprinted following a wall to his left, hoping the chairs of the cathedral would be enough to separate him from Alpha. In a flash, however, Alpha was standing right in his way. "Please," it said calmly, "Calm down." The man looked panicked, balling up his right hand into a fist and struck out at the small robot, in he thought was a last desperate attempt to get away. "Get off my planet!" he cried as he thrust his fist out. His fist slammed against Alpha's chest. To his surprise, the robot flew back, ricocheting off the floor into a fragment of a wall, which crumbled as the robot crashed against it. He looked in awe at the robot sprawled against the wall and then to his fist. His eyes opened wider. His hand was now glowing red, with a faint flickering aura of orange fire around it. In a second his fist returned to normal. He was about to vocalize his amazement when he realized now was his time to escape. Once again he began running out the front of the ruined cathedral, dodging to the side to avoid Alpha's metal body leaning against the wall. He blindly ran outside, and tripped on the edge of the crater. Down he fell against its slope. The world around him was spinning as he rolled down to the center of the huge crater. His body ached, but he didn't feel any bruises or any worse injuries to his body. He breathed hard, questions running through his mind. How did I wind up outside of my shelter? How did I end up with torn clothing? What the hell did that Machina do to me? Why don't I know what day it is?! Without warning, the rubble beneath him made a hollow cracking sound. The man wasn't able to realize what was happening before the gravel under him cracked open, dropping him into some underground cavern in the ground. Into the darkness he fell, and landed hard on a metal floor, the metallic covering of his body adding to the loud clang that announced the end to his fall. The man slowly got off the ground and looked around. Somehow this place seemed familiar to him. He was in a small round metal room, with several pathways leading off from it. The ceiling however, had a large hole in it, and half of the room was mangled with twisted metal and concrete. Then he spotted a sign on a wall that read: SHELTER #023a. "This is my shelter block," he stammered, approaching the sign and looking down the dark hallway that it depicted the name of. Behind him, in a silent flash, Alpha-5 appeared. It stayed in the shadows away from the man, only it's faintly glimmering lights giving it away. However, the man strode quickly down the hallway. Some of the lighting was still working somehow, and he could see where he was going. He began to notice the burnt corpses littered on the ground. "Sweet Jesus," he exclaimed, "What in God's name happened here?" Following behind him, Alpha-5 decided not to answer him. The man continued down the hallway, counting the doors that lined it, reading the names. In a short time he found the door he was looking for. There were engravings on the front of the door. They read: Father Jason Lee Scott Room #023a25  
  
"My room," Jason mentioned to himself aloud. He looked to the right of the door and found the familiar keypad that would open the automatic sliding door. Mashing the buttons, he grinned as it responded. The door, however, only opened a fraction of the way. Jason was not deterred as he wrapped his fingers around the door and pulled. His eyes clenched as he pulled with all his might. I wish I knew what happened here, but I have to see if I can at least salvage some of my belongings, they're all I have left! Come on! Open! Urged by his thoughts, his arms began to glow red in color, and the fiery orange aura returned. With a metallic whine, the sliding door was forced all the way open. He then dashed into his room. He tore off what was left of his robes, leaving him only with a pair of faded white pants and his black shoes. He stopped for a moment to look at his bare chest. The metallic red exoskeleton covering his body frightened him, as he had no idea what he was now. To his imagination, he believed he was being turned into a Machina somehow. He rushed himself to grab a white tank top and put on his leather jacket. The jacket was worn out, and smelled like ash, but Jason was happy to see that the picture of a silver crucifix, much like the one around his neck, was still in decent condition, even though it only made him slightly more assured. He grabbed a photo of his family, looking at his longingly for a moment before stuffing it into his jacket pocket. Finding no other objects of his worth taking with him, he grabbed his deep red biker helmet and started out the door, but he drew back as he saw Alpha- 5 silver form standing in his doorway. "Jason, please don't panic," the robot started, and then remembering Jason's original accusation towards it added, "I'm not a Machina. I'm a friend." The robot's monotone voice did not convince Jason in the least. "Out of my way, you Soulless monster," he said in the bravest voice that he could muster, clenching his free hand into a fist. The little robot did not want to be punched again, however, it did not back down. "Listen to me for only a moment," it began, "then you will understand." Jason hesitated, then remembered the first invasion from the Machina. As he was only 13 then, the event had given him a furious hatred against them. Although he only really could remember a shadow what the Machina actually looked like, Alpha-5 looked similar enough to him. He charged at it, his arms glowing red again for the attack. This time Alpha-5 was ready. His body flickered with energy, and it gained a ghostly silver aura. Jason charged at him, but his body passed right through the robot's form. He stumbled and fell against the opposite wall. He rolled over onto his back and stared in disbelief at the robot. Alpha- 5's body flickered with energy again and the ghostly aura disappeared. It turned around and stared into Jason with it's single red eye. Jason's courage was waning, and he could not muster it this time. He staggered to his feet and ran as fast as he could further down the hall, clutching his biker's helmet in his hand. He was heading to where he remembered the vehicles of the sheltered were kept, and was aiming to grab his motorcycle and driving out of the shelter. He planned to keep driving, heading as far away as possible. I'm leaving this nightmare, he thought, I'll be safe, as long as I can get to my bike. That blasted Machina won't be able to follow me then. There wasn't any doubt in his mind what he was going to do. This is, until he saw what was left of the vehicle storage bay. It was a vast wasteland of mangled alloys, tires, and it was home to another massive crater. The hole in the ceiling cast a light down into the room, and it glinted off a stack of rock and metal that pilled up underneath the opening. "No," he muttered, "no. No. No." His plan ruined, he was near to giving up. The sound of Alpha's limp stride on the metal floor behind him, however, reminded him that he still valued his life. With that he ran for the pile of rubble, climbing on it he made for the opening in the ceiling. The masses of junk under his feet gave way many times, but he managed to climb to the top. He stumbled out from the hole and climbed out into the open. A red hue was passed over the street that he found himself in, as it was now early morning. He collapsed to his hands and knees in exhaustion. His thoughts of rest were interrupted by the heavy metal footfalls on pavement approaching him. The figure in front of him stopped. Jason knew it was much larger than the small robot following him. He closed his eyes and began to pray, thinking this was a larger Machina coming to finish him off. "Get off the ground," a rugged voice said, with a digital muffle to his voice, like someone speaking through a radio, "You're not going to die." Jason opened his eyes and stopped his chanting and looked upwards, sitting up. For a moment he could not believe his eyes. The figure in front of his was completely clad in bulky black armor from head to toe. The armor was like an extra skin, the segments of the armor defining his human muscle structure. Over the armor he was wearing a black cloak, whose hood was drawn back, but the folds framed the intimidating frame of his helmet. The helmet was what Jason noticed first, he had seen the shape of the visor before, he was familiar with the black horns that struck out from the sides of the helmet. He recognized everything down to the jaw-like mouthpiece. "What's the matter buddy?" spoke the massive man in the armor, "Didn't you ever watch TV as a kid? Don't you know who I am?" Jason nodded. "Your." he began, but he couldn't form the rest of the words due to his awe and disbelief. "Yep," the man chuckled, his armor clunking together as he did so, then he said proudly yet grimly, "Ten years ago I was known as a Power Ranger." 


	3. The Black Power Ranger

Power Rangers: World of Darkness Chapter 2: The Black Power Ranger Jason could only stare at the man in front of him. He couldn't possibly be more confused after the events of the previous hour. At least now, he felt there was some hope. Sweeping the cloak open with a black metal arm which glinted in the red morning hue from behind the clouds over the sky, the Power Ranger bent down and offered his hand to Jason, who was still in awe on his knees. He stared at the hand and, starting to pull himself together, slowly raises his hand upward to meet the Ranger's. For a moment, he was shocked at the tightness of the man's grip as he was raised to his feet, dropping his biker helmet in his hand carelessly, but he always knew that a Power Ranger was supposed to have superhuman strength so the feeling passed. Now standing on his own, Jason still couldn't believe his eyes. "What's your name?" the Power Ranger asked, trying to relax Jason. This whole awe-struck look was getting on his nerves. "Uhm. Jas." he began, clearing his throat, "Jason. Jason Lee Scott." "Nice to meet you Jason," the Ranger responded relieved that the silence had been broken, he continued on, tapping his armored hand to his chest "You can call me Zack" "Zack?" Jason echoed, the name sounding plain for a real life superhero. Zack sighed and flicked a mental switch. With a click the black helmet began to unfold. Jason looked on, surprised, as the helmet segmented into smaller bits and telescoped into the thick collar around Zack's neck. Jason looked on, seeing the epic hero's real face for the first time. Zack's complexion was stern and squared jawed, yet he wore it with a casual grin. His skin was deep brown in color, but looked faded, as if his face hadn't seen the light of day for a long time. His thin but young electric purple eyes squinted in the light. He had jet-black hair, spiked along the top but very short at the back. His eyebrows were sharp and continued back over his head to meet his hairline just under his bangs. He had long side burns that merged into a slick goatee at his chin. He smiled. "Yeah, Zack," he said with a chuckle, having had a feeling he'd get a reaction like that, "Zachary Taylor, at your service." With that, he extended his metal covered hand again to Jason. Jason took it and laughed, dumfounded. "YOUR service?" he looked like a giddy child, taking his hero's hand and shaking it, "I can't believe I'm shaking the hand of the last living Power Ranger, and here he is telling me he's at MY service?" "Whoa." Zack said, while waving his free hand in the air to stop Jason before he dropped to his knees with a chant of 'I'm not worthy'. Besides, there were more pressing issues, and a flash of urgency flashed over Zack's eyes, "I'm not the last living Power Ranger. We've started recruiting." Zack looked into Jason's eyes with a knowing look. Jason looked a tad confused. Zack took advantage of this situation and freed his hand from Jason's grip, returning it under the dark cloak. "We?" shot Jason, not catching the hint, "Is the Green Ranger still alive?" "Well," spoke Zack with a morbid tone is his voice, "No. I was actually referring to Alpha-5." Jason looked a tad more confused. Zack pointed with a hand to behind Jason, with a grin and a nod. Jason hesitated, and turned around. There it was. The little silver robot, standing there in the gap. The only visible red light on its body was it's thin red eye, as the rest were saturated in the morning lights. It was tapping on the controls of its elongated arm with its other hand in very quick bursts of speed. Jason nearly jumped out of his own skin on seeing his alleged pursuer. Zack caught him before Jason bolted again in a panic. Jason soon calmed down and looked at the robot intrigued as it lowered its arms, revealing the only English lettering on its body. In black, it indeed read A.L.P.H.A-5 on it's scorched metal chest. Jason suddenly felt very stupid, especially since he had even attacked the poor mechanical thing. Zack was laughing. "I bet he had startled you," chuckled Zack, "Alpha tends to zap himself around a lot. I guess you don't feel like walking too much when you can teleport." Jason raised his eyebrows at this, as he had indeed seen the robot warping itself around a few times before. "We can't stay here," spoke Alpha-5 from its digital voice box; "It isn't safe. The Ravnawolven Hunters are just finishing their rounds. (Zack's face and body tensed with urgency as this was pointed out) We should rendezvous with the squad." Jason moved his lips without making any sound, silently echoing the confusing mention of Ravna-whatevers in his own confusion. He turned to his right to ask Zack just as he strode out from behind him. "Follow me, Jason." Zack said quickly with a glance back, "It isn't far, try to keep up." "But what-" Jason tried to ask, but his voice was cut off. A sharp ghostly howl shot through the air from behind them, making his blood run cold as ice. "RUN!" ordered Zack. Jason was about to bolt, but remembered his helmet. He quickly turned around and picked it up, looking behind him just once. What he saw made him turn around again even quicker. In the distance, there were figures rushing out from the alleyways of the wrecked buildings. They were all tall and menacing, each looking like furred bestial demons on vacation from hell, clad in bronze armor, each was letting out a loud roar in response to the shrill beacon howl. Jason didn't care to catch any other details and ran for his life, donning the biker helmet in his hands to make him feel safer with its protection, as well as to free his hands so he could run faster. Zack was already far ahead, running at an impressive pace. Jason ran at a blurred speed, catching up but not noticing that never in his life had he run this fast, nor that the his body was glowing from underneath his clothes. He did notice however, that he had just passed Alpha-5. He slowed a bit and looked back. If it can teleport, he thought, why is it trying to run away on foot. Especially since can only limp. Looking ahead, Jason noted that Zack had stopped and was looking at Alpha-5 as well. The little robot was not going to close the very large gap that had been formed in between it and the two men at the pace is was going." "Alpha," called Zack into a receiver on his left wrist, "Come on! Teleport ahead to the rendezvous point. What's the problem?" The tinny voice responded through the speaker on Zack's wrist communicator. "I am unable to regain any power," it mentioned weakly. Jason could here it from where he stood, even through the helmet. It was as if the robot's voice was also being transmitted near him, rather than just on Zack's person, "My power cell's integrity has been compromised. I cannot extract any power from the grid." "How the hell did that happen?" Zack commanded bewildered. "I was damaged during my mission to bring Jason to us." Zack looked like he didn't understand how that could have happened. Jason knew exactly how. "Uh." started Jason, snapping Zack's attention to him, "That would be my fault." "WHAT?" cried Zack. "I kind of punched it." Jason tried to explain, but it didn't look like Zack was very happy about it, "I. I thought it was a Mechina!" "You fucking moron!" spat Zack as he dashed back to Alpha, his helmet sliding back into place over his head as he ran. Jason's heart panged with guilt. What had he done? He was putting his very own childhood hero in danger, in order to save a somewhat useless looking robot. Looking to the left, he saw some of the alien beast-men burst out from alleyways much closer to their position. Three of them halted in their clawed tracks and pointed towards Alpha, Zack and him letting out a fierce howl of alert, followed by a resonating battle cry from nine other beast-men nearby. Jason's lips tightened together in determination. He sprinted after Zack. "I'm going to help!" he said in a wavering but brave voice. "You've caused enough trouble, just hide!" responded Zack back to him as Jason ran behind him. "NO!" Jason said, running faster, "It's my fault this is happening! I'm going to make up for it!" Zack glanced over at Jason. He made his decision. "I'm going ahead to distract them! You grab Alpha and run! He'll tell you where to go from there!" Zack then shot off to the left, where fourteen beast-men were bearing upon them, growling fiercely each wielding steel colored, jagged edged and devilishly deadly looking swords. Zack responded with a growl of his own and collided into them with a thundering crunch. Jason got goosebumps from the sheer force of the impact, that he could feel vibrating through the air and ground around the Black Ranger. Finally he reached Alpha. He bent down on one knee and Alpha slung his short body over Jason's back, clinging to his shoulders. Jason put his arms back to support Alpha's body by his legs. Now, piggy-backing the little robot, Jason stood to his feet. Before making his retreat he made a glance towards his hero in battle. Four of the beast-men were lying limp on the ground. Three others were just getting up off the ground, jaws frothing in anger. Jason noted that they reminded him of dark furred werewolves in bronze armor, which was almost Egyptian in style, although looked medieval in its apparent thickness. Zack had one of them raised in the air by the neck. With a mighty swing, he threw the alien back toward it's pack, where it was impaled on the end of a sword as it knocked many of the other creatures back. Its blood spurted from the opening in its chest an inky red spill as its body was tossed to the ground. Then in a quick pounce, the seven who remained standing covered Zack and began gorging their swords at him. Jason's mouth gaped; thinking this was it for his hero. However, just then, an arm thrust out from the pile, spraying blood into the air. The rest of Zack's body rolled out from the cluster, blood dripping from his right arm, which now had a multitude of metal blades jutting out from it. Zack looking back at Jason. "What do you think your doing?!" he barked "Run! Get to the rendezvous point!" Jason got the picture. He ran as fast as he could off in the direction he had seen Zack head off in earlier. He took one last glance back, just in time to see Zack raise his other hand, metal blades suddenly forming out from his left forearm, similar to the ones that had mysteriously appeared on his right. Jason looked away and concentrated on running. "Turn left up at the building ahead" droned Alpha to Jason, who nodded and did as he was told, and continued following the robot's directions. He hoped to god that he would see Zack again. 


	4. Fangs of the Beast

Power Rangers: World of Darkness Chapter 3: Fangs of the Beast Zack looked back as Jason ran into the alleys in relief as he pulled the blades on his arms out from the last of his enemies, his cloak was shredded and stained with blood, and the black sheen of his armor had been mottled in red. Relaxing a bit, the blades receded into his forearms, the armor closing over the small holes where they had appeared. He looked back ahead of him and noticed that many more of the beast-men had been watching and now were taunting him with their barks and their yips. Zack's helmet computer registered 32 of them surrounding him in a semi-circle. "Fucking Ravnawolves." he cursed to himself, "I have to find a way to escape without them following me to the rendezvous. Where's their leader, even a race this feral must have an alpha male or something." Then, as if responding to his words, a massive figure stomped its way over a hill of rubble. The sunlight struck across its jet-black fur, which covered it from head to toe like the others of its kind. On its head was a gold and black crown, which spread around its head in a domed semi-circle, framing its visage. Locks of mangled black hair struck out from behind it, two of which were braided in a crude fashion, and hung over its shoulders down to its chest. Draped over its torso was a closed vest of black metal chain mail covered with domes of golden armor, the largest of which hung in the center of its chest, and was adorned with a ruby red brooch at the center of it. He wore on its midsection a kilt in the same fashion of black chain mail and golden domes of armor, except larger and less jeweled. Over its massive fore arms and forelegs he wore golden bracers. Clenched in it's right clawed fist it held a fiendish looking long sword, forged more traditionally than the other Ravnawolven swords, it was adorned with many ruby jewels and its blade glittered in its golden sheen. The monster reared its head back, releasing a commanding roar, and, spreading its arms, two huge furred and feathered wings exploded out from its back, claws protruding from the joints. Zack took a breath in as his helmet computer translated the language. "How dare it defeat so many of my Hunters!" it growled to its pack mates on either side of it, "Soon it will see how I, Goldar the Ravager, fares in battle." "Speak to me with respect! I merit more than third-person merit!" commanded Zack, his voice booming through the mouthpiece of his helmet, which he had set to increase the volume of his voice. He grinned at the shock Goldar showed at not only that Zack had understood what he had said, but that the human had somehow responded in a Ravnawolf tongue. Zack had known the way these aliens spoke as their superiors, but this was the first time he had tried to intimidate it. Glad that his computer was translating his English so these invaders would understand, he hoped his improvised authority would last, "I am the Black Power Ranger: Defender of Earth! I demand you leave my planet or die!" Goldar remained silent for a moment, frustration building up in a snarl. He bore his fangs and responded, beginning to stomp down the hill of debris moving into a run. "You speak so boldly! I will call your bluff!" he roared, raising his sword over his head, "I will kill you myself, as I have done to the rest of your militia throughout your land! I shall not leave, but it is you who will DIE!" Goldar then leapt into the air and flapped his wings down, sending him into flight. After raising a few feet into the air, he dove downwards, screaming towards Zack at a terrifying pace. Zack frowned, as this was not exactly what he wanted. He wasn't about to back down though. He thrust his forearms downwards and two jagged blades shot out from slots in his armor. With a loud cry he ran at Goldar and bounded at him from the ground, pointing his blades out towards the alien monster. They collided with a sound that caused the ground to shake, and blasts of wind to fly out in a shockwave. * * * "We're very close," said Alpha on Jason's back as he ran. They were approaching a hulk of concrete that at one time was a skyscraper, but it had collapsed in the first waves of the invasion, "The rendezvous is just inside the ruins of this building." Jason grinned. He was almost there. His body ached from the distance he had run, never slowing down, but he ran on. A sound like thunder rolled through the air and suddenly, the ground shook beneath him. His steps faltered and he stopped running at the edge of a deep trench. That sounded like when Zack first rammed into those aliens, he thought, and his imagination raced to how fierce the battle had become now. His thoughts were interrupted at the quick sound of footsteps on a near-wrecked building top above him and a sharp howl. Spinning around, he only caught a glimpse at the werewolf like form dropkicking him in the upper torso. It had been an ambitious Hunter, who had ran off from the pack without orders, specifically targeting Jason and Alpha in its arrogant battle plan. The beast thought it was clever and would gain a prestigious warrior name from this victory. It growled a chuckle as it watched Jason fly back down into the trench. Jason was in a free fall until hitting the slope of the trench. He rolled down on the jagged rocks. Alpha, flung from Jason's back, was rolling along side him. Jason collided with a large sewer pipe that was jutting out from the rubble. Alpha fell farther down the deep gutter in the concrete, and landed on a flat platform that at one time might have been part of a highway street. The tiny mechanized form lay still on its asphalt pedestal. Jason lay on his back, trying to regain the air that was knocked from his lungs. He flipped up the visor on his helmet and let the cool air waft into his mouth. His breathing faltered as he saw what had knocked him down. The beast-man was staring down at him from the brim of the gigantic burrow, it was aggravated his prey was still alive. With its irregular sword in its furred hand, it leapt skillfully down the incline and soon it stood proudly over Jason. Jason couldn't even scream as it raised its sword. He couldn't move, for the creature had pinned him down with a foot. His hero was off somewhere else, locked in battle, possibly dead. This is all because of me, he thought, I can't let it end this way! He clenched his first in defiance searching his heart for the courage and his mind for the means, he found he could only pray for divine intervention as the monster plunged the sword down towards his heart. The last thing Jason saw was the blade glint from a sudden red fiery glow of his body as it bore down to him. The sound of the explosion following was deafening. * * * Zack pulled himself up to his feet, raising his head above the clouds of dust that misted about the battlefield. Tell me I killed him, he thought looking for Goldar's body. He saw only a dark silhouette in a near-by cloud. It could only be Goldar; the rest of his army had either been knocked away by the force of their battle or ran away to a safer place to watch. Zack looked down at his armor. His cloak was shredded, but still hung long over his shoulders, albeit in tatters. His armor was worse for wear, and had cracks and chips crusted over its black metal, which could no longer glint in the sun behind its veil of clouds, for he was covered in dust, dirt and mud. His forearms had the broken stubs of his blades, leaving no place to replace them with new weapons. Zack was down to only his fists to fight with. A waft of air cleared some of the must from the air. In distance, Zack heard the sound of an explosion, and glancing back saw fire shoot into the air a good distance away. This was not a good sign to him and he hoped Jason and Alpha were doing all right. He looked back to the one mass of dust in particular he was glaring into a moment ago. Is it just me, or is his shadow in the cloud thinner looking all of a sudden? Zack thought. The mist twirled off of an object, revealing the source of the dark sketch in the gray swirls of musk. Standing cracked and broken, jutting from the ground, was the golden bladed long sword the Ravnawolf had used in battle, the hilt was broken off, rendering useless. However, Zack was more interested in its original wielder. Goldar was no where in sight. Zack was only confused for a moment. Until he heard the snarl from behind. Spinning around, he swung his fist around behind him. He had been too slow. Goldar snatched his fist from the air and lifted it in the air. Grabbing Zack by the throat, he proceeded to lift the brave Ranger eight feet off the ground, so he was now face-to-face with the alien warlord. "What's this?" mocked Goldar, "no more tricks up your sleeves? All out of your pathetic assortment of kitchen utensils, hmm? I would expect more from a warrior with such a long prestigious name as yourself, Black Power Ranger: Defender of Earth." "I'm not through yet." Zack managed to say, causing Goldar to rear his head back in laughter. "Still kicking, you worthless so-called defender of this planet?" he snorted in between his chuckles, "Maybe in your next life you'll think to arrive to battle on time! Look around you, we've been raping your most powerful continent for one of your Earth months!" Zack remained silent, and only cursed himself for his bad judgement and timing. So much he could have done to arrive sooner if he had gotten the chance. There was so much he had to have done in the past ten years. So much he had to prepare. So much he had to wait, for some things were beyond his control So much good it was to him now. "After I kill you," continued the bestial warrior, "I'm going to hunt down the rest of those squads of what you call the Rangers. Its only a matter of time before I get the order to raid that little command center you've set up a few miles from here." Zack widened his eyes. How did this monster know of the location of their stronghold? Have these aliens just been playing with them? How was it possible? "We know a lot more about your stupid little struggle than you want us to know. Only the legend of the Power Rangers had remained a mystery, and now, upon fighting you, I see there really is nothing you humans really can do! You hear me! NOTHING!" "Your WRONG!" cried out Zack, lifting his legs up and kicking out at Goldar. Massive curved blades jutted our around his feet as he plunged the ends into Goldar's chest, who growled and fell back onto the cracked pavement. Zack twisted out of his grasp and landed on the floor. Goldar jumped up, blood dripping from him, but his face was filled with a whole new definition of rage. Out of options, Zack raised his fists above his head, a deep violent energy focusing into his knuckles. With a shout, he slammed his fists into the ground with all his strength. The sound boomed outwards in a shockwave, knocking Goldar off his feet. The earth cracked and split around the Black Ranger, bulky rocks jutting out around him. Goldar was sent flying, but spread his wings out just in time to save him from a very painful fall. The dust was sent upwards into the sky in a mushroom cloud. Goldar roared in anger as Zack stole away in an underground shelter pathway, dashing to the rendezvous. Behind him all he could hear besides the sound of hulking shrapnel hitting the ground, was Goldar's command, which sent a chill up his spine: "Now is the time! I will wait not wait for the command! Arise my Hunters, today we attack the Rangers directly! Attack!" Zack quickened his pace, his body now running totally on adrenaline and that deep glowing purple energy radiating around him. He had to get there before it was too late. Time was not on his side. 


	5. Awakenings

Power Rangers: World of Darkness Chapter 4: Awakenings Jason awoke in his quarters. He stared up at the ceiling as the calming lights activated on time with the alarm set in his computer. The recycled air was cool and fresh. His favorite song was playing on the radio, on the entertainment station nicknamed Freedom Radio. He knew all this glamour was just to hide the desolation of the attempted re- construction over ground from the Machina invasion. That nightmare had been over ten years ago, although he often dreamt of the horrid events, when those copper-headed robots had slaughtered his parents in front of his 13- year old eyes. But last night he did not dream of that. He had dreamt something worse. The invasion had happened all over again. This time it had been even more terrifying then the Machina, it had been werewolves. At the thought of this, Jason laughed out loud. Werewolves, he thought, I must be screwed up in the head to think up stuff like that. It wasn't all that bad for him though; he had met the real Black Ranger himself. He shook hands with his hero. Jason smiled at this and got out of bed to get dressed. His computer was displaying a pleasant message to him. It was Sunday, and he expected some new faces at church when he gave his sermon. He proudly donned his black robes, and fixed up the little white collar after making sure his silver crucifix pendant was displayed well overtop. He laughed out loud again when he thought of his dream. What a story he had to tell in mass today. Before leaving his quarters he looked to his display shelf. There lay his best memories of recent events as well as childhood successes. His second-degree black belt in karate lay he got at the age of nine, before the invasion, was draped over his tournament trophy, witch dwarfed the runner-up trophies he had won in the previous years. It reminded him he was going to attend the Sunday school to teach his biweekly class of self- defense. He grabbed at his black helmet, painted over with a metallic red Star of David. This had belonged to his father, who was one of those rare breeds of extreme sports players, had a very high faith in God. The helmet was in good condition, but it had seen its last risk in Jason's eyes, for he only used it on his motorcycle rides around the central subway streets of his beloved city complex: Oasis Deep. Stepping out of his quarters, he made his way towards the vehicle bay. Everything around was serene and beautiful in a rust-colored metallic sort of way. He stood on the circular disc that served as an elevator down past the low-class shelter levels to the city complex underground. One day, he thought, he would move deeper to the city, but that would cost money, and he really could only afford his shelter, located only one level below the quarter-mile thick layer of protective metal that divided it from the over ground world under repair. On his black Kawasaki Motorcycle he sped out down the ramp to the subway streets, mysteriously clear of all other vehicles, as if the road was meant just for him. The metal ceiling and walls went on for only a few miles, and Jason held his breath in anticipation. He expected the metal to be replaced with clear plastic, giving a full breathtaking view of Oasis Deep, of all its garden resorts and white buildings, stretching up almost to the metal shield that shielded everything. The waft of the fresh subtly scented air would fill his nostrils, even through his helmet, making him feel warm in the heart. He would hear the sweet sound of the environment controllers around the area. The sight, smell and sound would give him hope, and he thanked the Lord for the tingle up his spine every time he passed down this ramp. The metal receded suddenly, and Jason suddenly saw his own personal vision of hell itself. It was Oasis Deep, but everything was in flames. The shield had collapsed, and a thick beam of light was pouring down into the complex, sending waves of fire and death out in a chaotic frenzy of destruction. Tiny dots of black scattered in fear, all was tainted in pure red. The road ahead of him caved down and fell away to the ground below. He swerved his bike around and nearly fell off the end of what was left of the street. Back to where he came he sped, pushing his bike to its limits. His rear view mirrors could only glow orange, reflective the serpent of flame shooting up behind him. Back into the metal lined corridors, which were now painted with the raging inferno. The red dragon caught him in its mouth and gorged him in fire, and before his body burst into flames he swore he would never forgive this act. "As God as my witness, REVENGE WILL BE MINE!" he screamed to the void of death that welcomed him. * * * He sat up in cold sweat, breathing hard. Looking around with wide eyes he examined the dark stone shack of a room he had woken up in. He tossed the faded blankets off his body, and stood up off his bed of worn carpet on the floor. There was a wooden chair in the room, and there his clothes hung. Looking down at himself, he confirmed the fact he wasn't wearing them. He drew in a breath and faltered a few steps back. His whole body was covered in a thin metallic red exoskeleton, leaving only his head, hands and feet bare. From his midsection a small black box with a featureless ruby disc jutted out like a blister on a severe burn. He closed his eyes and tears rolled down his cheeks as he cried. He had only gone from one nightmare to the next. "Are you really that afraid of it?" a solemn but familiar voice called from the shadows. Jason looked up, startled. He relaxed somewhat as Zack walked out from the shadows into the silver light cast from a window in the wall that looked out to the eternally clouded evening sky. He was wearing a fresh deep violet padded cloak, and wore an expression of woe, mixed with morbid determination. Jason's mind raced with questions as he got off his knees, walking to his hero with a pleading voice. "What is god's name is this," he spoke, holding out his arms, "I don't understand anything." "Nothing is wrong with you," Zack sighed, getting ready to explain it all, "I was just as confused when it happened to me. Only, it should be easier to explain to you." "What?" Jason inquired, "What happened?" "Jason," said Zack, deciding how to go about this talk, "Do you remember me saying that Alpha-5 and I were recruiting?" "Yeah," Jason said, awe filling his eyes, he had a feeling what came next, but he couldn't believe it. "Welcome to the team," Zack said with a grin, "you are the Red Power Ranger." Jason looked at Zack, stunned, then down at the exoskeleton again in a totally new light. This had to be another dream, but he thought so clearly, and more questions filled his head. "The second skin you looked at so fearfully earlier is the dormant phase of your power suit," Zack said, "In time you'll learn to perform the rest of the morph as I can." "Morph?" echoed Jason, "As in change? Into what?" "Morphing is just a nickname that was given to the switch between the dormant stage and active stage of the armor. Here, I'll show you." Zack loosed the padded violet cloak and let it fall. He wore only black leather gloves and boots, the rest of his body was covered in an exoskeleton much like the one Jason now bore. The only difference was it was much bulkier than Jason's was. It wasn't all black, as his armor was, for it had thin lines of purple spread out over the dividing segmentation over his muscles like veins. He also bore a larger version of the black box that Jason had, except the disc was ebony. Zack closed his eyes and exhaled. Then his expression hardened and he grit his teeth, letting out a yell. His eyes had opened and radiated a deep purple energy. The stone room vibrated around, causing Jason to have to fall back against the wall behind him for support. The energy spread out over the purple veins, causing them to glow in the same energy. He thrust his arms to his side, his body in a rising build of intensity as the morph continued. The veins and segmentations suddenly rose like a twisted jigsaw puzzle off his body, and black metal segments telescoped off his body, quickly covering him with dark thick plated metal. It spread over him, covering his entire body in a blur of moving pieces of steel. He then let out a deep metallic sigh, sending purple smoke out from his mouthpiece. The black box had been integrated into the armor, but the ebony disc was now glowing with light purple outlines over a detailed set of markings. Jason gaped at the final product. It was as if a great mystery had been solved, the secret behind the quick appearances and disappearances of the Power Rangers. They must have been able to switch all the time, blending it perfectly with the other humans. It did not answer all his questions, but it did create more questions in Jason's head. "And I can do this?" Jason gasped "Yes" was Zack's only response. "How?" "You're not quite ready for that yet. There's still more you must know." Jason sat down on the ground. This defiantly was good judgement, as even Zack looked down with a bit of satisfaction that at least Jason was as ready as he could be. "You're a priest right?" Zack asked as he also sat. Jason nodded, "Ok, then I guess we'll think spiritually here. Now, in your own opinion, what happens to a body when it dies?" Jason had no idea where this was going, "I suppose the soul would leave the body and ascend into heaven, and the corpse would decay into the Earth." "Right. Ok." Zack said skeptically, and his mind searched for whatever reasoning he can come up with, "Now what do you think happens when the soul can't leave?" "What?" Jason said, getting a bit annoyed at how Zack hesitated before saying the word 'soul' each time. "Just listen. Imagine you had some loose ends in life before dying, maybe even just one, but it was so strong your soul needed to stay back." "Then I suppose it would wander the Earth aimlessly as a ghost." "Ok, good. Let's move on" Jason had no idea what the point of that had been but let Zack continue. "Now, see that little black box on your gut?" Zack pointed to Jason's midsection, "That is your Morpher. It allows your body to accept certain powers and abilities from a thing called the Morphing Grid." "What the-"  
  
"Please don't ask about that. I couldn't explain that if I tried. If you want to try to understand it later, you can ask Alpha. If he can be repaired." Jason bit his lip. He remembered how the small robot had been trying to tell him what Zack was now explaining before. Jason had rewarded that act with severe damage to its power cell, as well as the addition of a heap of trouble he didn't even know the full extent of. He then remembered the certain situations where his body had been glowing, and he had remembered being faster or stronger than he ever had been. Were those echoes of his powers trying to burst out? "Anyway," Zack sighed, derailing Jason's train of thought, "The Morpher actually uses the power of your will. (Or spirit, or soul. Whatever.) It needs it to be able to connect you to the Morphing Grid. It also houses massive amounts of energy that is meant to course through your veins. It works physically by integrating into your body symbiotically. For that purpose, it is made for a specific genetic coding for it to work properly. It doesn't work backwards though, you don't make the Morpher for the person. You just make the Morpher, and hope that one-day you'll find someone who fits the bill." "Yeesh!" exclaimed Jason, "I guess that's why there was only two Power Rangers during the Machina war?" "Sure." Zack responded quickly, "Well, actually it's also cause they take ages to complete one perfectly, and it takes extreme care, rare materials, and a lot of patience." "I see," Jason looked at the little box for the first time with admiration. "The Green Ranger and myself weren't the first to have Morphers used on," Zack added, "there was one before us. Its creator, on himself, used the first prototype Morpher. At the time he had been able to create it for himself, whether it was luck of the draw, or just plain fate I don't know. He might have even done it on purpose. I'll have to ask him if I talk to him again. In any case, being the only test subject he could trust and he was running out of time before the shit hit the fan, he decided to test it on himself. The energy entered and overwhelmed his body, but it disintegrated his physical self, turning him into pure energy and trapping him in the Morphing Grid." "Wait," interrupted Jason, "how did the other two get built then?" "Well," smirked Zack, "There was 3 of the original A.L.P.H.A-Unit series around then. They were destroyed, shut down, or lost in the creation of the next batch of Morphers. Although only our own Alpha-5 survived this long, as unlike Alpha-4, was made to survive through the times of war the soon followed." "What does that name stand for anyway?" "A.L.P.H.A?" repeated Zack, "It stands for Anti/matter Limbo Power Hub Android Unit." "Anti/Matter Limbo?" "How about we just say the first A is for Ask-Alpha, ok?" "Right." "All you need to know is that the Alpha-series were made to be connected directly to the Morphing Grid for maintenance purposes. When Zordon-" "Who?" "Zordon. He created the Morphers. Soon you'll understand why he's your best fiend. Trust me." Jason nodded and let Zack continue. Things were making sense, and he thought, 'thinking back to before these invasions, I would have kicked him in the face for expecting me to be gullible enough to even be stupid enough to believe this stuff. Things are weird enough with alien invasions, so why not weirder?' "As I was saying. When Zordon was trapped in his own intangible domain, he was able to communicate with the Alpha-Unit series and continue his work. I've had the chance to talk to him myself actually." "Will I be able to as well?" "Let's hope so." "Ok, so there was the dilemma. The Morphers were proven to work, but they were too much for a living body. Why? It's because a living body was too actively connected to its soul. The Morphers only really needed a DNA match to activate, and a soul to control it. Even dead bodies have genetics in them. And what if the soul wasn't directly connected to the body at the time, like. Let's say a spirit that never went to Heaven or Hell and just moped around their corpses?" "So," Jason said slowly, not believing what this means, "That worked?" Zack nodded solemnly, "Three times in a row actually after that point. I was the first to have the process work successfully on. Then there was my partner, the Green Ranger, next. And now, ten years later, there was you." "Wait," Jason interjected dubiously, "I can't possibly be." "Ah!" Zack shot back, raising a hand before he went into a rant, "but there's the grim reality. I thought you could better grasp it if you knew how it all worked. I'm dead and so are you." Jason felt sick to his stomach. 


	6. I am

Power Rangers: World of Darkness Chapter 5:  
  
I am  
  
"I'm sorry kid, that's the truth." Zack had said, before walking out of the small room. Jason sat in a corner. He had sat there for two hours after throwing up on his blankets. They had been removed by Zack as he left, saying he was going out to see how Alpha was doing. Jason couldn't care less about Alpha right now. He had just been told that he was dead. Dead, but walking, talking, breathing, and thinking. Every aspect about life was there. Originally, he thought he had become no better than a Zombie, a soulless creature, wandering the earth in despair, envying the truly dead, frustrated as their body was being uncontrollably desecrated. Two thoughts contradicted him, there was the technology of the Morphers in general, which needed the soul of the host to function properly, and therefore his soul was still with him. This was according to Zack, at least, and Zack didn't sound like he believed in souls anyway, and this insulted Jason. Just because he was a priest doesn't mean you had to explain everything religiously correct in order for him to understand. He wasn't stupid he just had faith. Faith supported belief, and it was a belief of Jason's that was the other contradictory thought. If he didn't have a soul, then he wouldn't have any emotions, and if he didn't have any emotions, he wouldn't have just spent most of his last hour crying. It wasn't his grim state that had saddened him. It just was disturbing and confusing. The reason was closer to the heart than that. His home in Oasis Deep was destroyed. Familiar faces had been disintegrated, destroyed or demented beyond any hope of seeing them again. He had also found a newspaper in his room, from a city up under Canada called Serenity Veldt called the "Underground Press". He had read it. It was dated back two weeks after the last day of Jason's life. What day it was now he didn't know. The articles were all detailing the state of the world. North America were all in hiding, letting the new alien invasion of the Zedd Empire lay waste to all over ground structures, only able to touch some of the cities. Including the tragically accurate ray of Final Light (a vague term used when a sensitive person talks of the beams of light that lay the continent to waste in the first week of the invasion of the Zedd Empire) of Oasis Deep, the largest city complex known on North America. There was articles dedicated to its loss, including facts about how it rivaled France's Plains De Vie in size and Japan's Neo-Tokyo in efficiency. The world was in a sad state, Jason found. Every other country was cut off from North America, and they had given up on it. A few desperate transmissions by the newspaper reporter's sources revealed they lay in wait for the inevitable spread of invasion, and that rescue teams will be sent as soon as the defense of their own countries were secure. Basically, this meant no was coming out of paranoia. The city complexes that remained were slowly being found and destroyed. The worst loss was the Paradise Halls of Mexico, which was the main tunnel-city that connected the Americas together. After that terrible loss, the continents were even geographically cut off from each other. South America had been North America's only vent for survivors, only intake of more Ranger units, and only resource for supplies and necessities. All hope was lost. He had stopped reading at that point and had wept. Now he was calm. Did he dare pick up the newspaper again? He glanced at it. There it lay as the symbol of the world's sorrow in writing. The part that hurt him the most was that, at one time he could help the pains of others by showing them the word of God, and of the Lord Jesus Christ. No more masses no more Sunday school, no youth groups, no Martial Arts classes, no more making grand entrances into the parking lot with his motorcycle. He used to be the coolest priest there, but no more than a re-animated corpse now in metal underwear. He could not help the souls any more as he knew how. His church now lay in ruins, the cathedral he had begged and pleaded the Oasis Deep administrators to build, the petitions signed the money raising. His sweat and blood was in that church. His heart and soul was there, lying in the rubble and twisted metal. He grasped his silver crucifix pendant that still hung around his neck and looked at the paper. It was turned on to the last page, where Jason read a phrase that stirred him. He got out of his corner and picked up the newspaper, reading the sentence over and over again. He laughed out loud, getting to his feet, he felt giddy. Dropping the newspaper he spread his arms and looked up to the ceiling, as if a great weight had been lifted off his shoulders. It had read, "Only the Power Rangers can save us now." "I AM A POWER RANGER!" he preached in revelation, and smiled proudly with determination of such magnitude that his body flashed orange and red as he spoke those words. He looked down and saw himself glowing faintly. Clenching his fists, he caused a fiery aura to sprout around his knuckles. He could feel it, it was like a small spark on his gut, incandescent with power. The power was inside of him, but he had to somehow unlock it. He let his arms drop, and let the power slip back into him. He felt breathless for a moment, he hadn't realized how long he had concentrated on the glow on his hands, and it had exhausted him, mentally. His vision swarmed like he had just stood up too fast. He didn't understand these new sensations, but they were there, and he was excited by them. His thoughts swarmed, but unlike before these were positive. He could save the world. Zack and he, the Power Rangers, could save the world. Once again the superhuman duo would beat back the aliens. This melodramatic notion sparked a chuckle in him, but doubt stole it away. He still felt dazed from when he held the glow on his hands. He had made himself glow on purpose, but it drained him. If that were only an anima effect of his power, what would it take to get the actual benefits? Would he strain himself into a coma before even getting close to even Morphing? He hasn't even been into a Karate stance in ten years. Could he be a hero, now? He was just a priest, and he knew God is a father, creator and guide, not a bodyguard. Would he be to handle his fate? "I will," he said, the daze clearing from his head, courage swelling in his heart, "I am the Red Power Ranger. I must do it." 


	7. The Graveyard

Power Rangers Chapter 6: The Graveyard Zack stood on the brink of a gigantic crater; a solemn expression was on his face. His dark violet cloak swaying out in from behind him as the quick wind licked its padded surface from behind. Behind him, seven figures stood, their eye's catching some of the light from the clouded sky, giving them a liquid glint, contrasting inside their hooded cloaks. Five of the seven wore navy blue, where the other two bore red. Ahead of him, another figure, dressed in the same violet cloak as he, sat on a rock; hooded head turned to the ground. Smog sifted over the rocky ground, drifting the musty smell of dirt, stone and embers. Jason had left the small stone shack he had woken up in, and had gone straight to this solemn gathering just a short walk ahead. He wrinkled his nose as he approached the brooding collective ahead of him. There was something else he smelt in the air that he didn't like. He looked up, and grinned seeing the familiar padded cloaks of the surviving American and Canadian Rangers. His eyes were set on Zack, however, who turned around hearing the young priest's footsteps scraping across the gravel. Jason had donned his clothes, including the white pants and black leather jacket and shoes, but he left out the shirt proudly displaying his red exoskeleton against which his silver crucifix repelled against when he walked. He stopped, letting the breeze ruffle his short cut dark brown hair. He could see the sadness on Zack's face as he walked to him. "Zack?" he said as his grin faded noticing the seriousness of his hero's suffering, "What's wrong? Did something happen?" "See for yourself, kid," Zack mulled, pointing over his shoulder to the crater. Jason looked ahead, filled with morbid curiosity. He sprinted up the edge up the crater and looked out. His blood ran cold at the sight. There before him, the crater spread out a good few miles ahead, littered with smaller craters and holes in between large chunks of remaining wall and twisted masses of destroyed machinery, giving evidence there was some sort of basement to the structure that had previously stood there. Some ash coated spaces still burned with the fresh colors of fire. Unlike the other craters and wreckage surrounding the continent, this wasteland was absolutely fresh. Even more unsettling, scattered around the gray pit of destruction were the lifeless bodies of about a hundred other Rangers. Their bodies charred, sliced or beaten, some of which could not even be told which country they had originally been stationed with, and others where even the gender was not even discernable. Their bodies showed signs that there had been a battle, but only Ranger corpses lay still against the cold shattered ground. "Sweet Jesus," breathed Jason, crossing himself, "What happened here?" The seated figure on the rock ahead looked up from the ground at Jason. She replied in a gruff but young female voice. "It was the Ravnawolves," she spoke, looking out onto the scene, "Somehow they knew we were camped here. Out of no where they attacked, and look now. Not even a single one of those alien mother fuckers were killed!" Jason looked at her, sympathizing with her increasing volume of rage. I guess we didn't get to the rendezvous in time. he rationalized. The female Ranger stood and threw a rock defiantly at the rubble. Jason did not know what to say at first, then approached her to console her. "Child," spoke Jason, approaching her, laying his hand on her shoulder, "They were all good men and women. God has them now, and I'm sure they were allowed into Heaven for their sacrifice. May they rest in peace." "Their dead," she spoke, throwing his hand off her shoulder, chuckling tragically "Their dead, god boy. They didn't even have a chance against them. It's only a matter of time now. Fuck Heaven, we're all already in Hell." With that she strode past Jason, leaving him looking rejected and insulted. He spun around as she left and was about to speak but chose not to. He let her walk away. Sighing he turned around again and walked down the incline into the core of the gulf. Standing in the field of the broken stones and death that surrounded them, he began reciting funeral rites. * * * Zack had only wandered a slight distance away, and was facing out towards the remains of a major street, which was now a river of bubbling liquids, spouting off from the Imperial City miles and miles away. He was deep in thought. Heavy steps on the ground made him turn round, breaking his concentration. He was expecting to see the confused form of Jason behind him. Instead was the female Ranger in the violet cloak. She pulled her hood back, letting her shoulder-length black hair ruffle in the wind. Her slanted eyes narrowed at the sight of Earth's so called 'savior'. Her deep tan skinned face was mottled with dirt and her small lips were set together in frustration and sadness. Fists clenched she walked quickly out to the armored warrior. "You bastard," she said angrily, stepping around to his front, ranting at him in a desperate fit, "Why did you come back? We didn't need you! Before they couldn't find us. We had an army. We were winning it all back! As soon as you showed up eight days ago, they sent out the Ravnawolves. They didn't even have those fucking Hunts before they saw you! All our careful battle plans were all turned to shit when you came in. We didn't need you!!" "Stop this!" barked the Black Ranger, grabbing the woman by the shoulders, trying to stop her before she got needlessly emotional, "Get a hold of yourself, commander! Don't you think that even if I hadn't shown up they wouldn't have called in the Ravnawolves? You may have been finding ways to deal damage to them, and maybe your attacks were even hindering at times, but you weren't really hurting them! It's true that your army fought incredibly well. But face the truth! They aren't the Machina, you know nothing about the Zedd Empire, and frankly, neither do I really..." "How can you say that?" she exclaimed, "You're the one who told us those savages were even called Ravnawolves in the first place! We were thinking of calling them Wolfmen before you corrected us! How can you say you don't know anything about them? That's bullshit!" she ranted on violently, "You even came two fucking weeks after the invasion had started! Do you even remember what you said ten years ago! You lied to us!" "Quiet! Don't start into this again. Forget that, it's not important now," he began again. He tried to think of a way to get the subject back to the present, "Alpha told me what they were called when we first fought them. He knows a lot more, but we need to try and keep him repaired or there's no chance we'll learn anything else! So much of him is damaged, ok? He's got details in his memory banks that could mean our victory!" "Don't change the subject!" she spat, having been lead by him like this before, "Tell me why you were late! You broke your promise to the whole world! Do you even care?!" "Look. Please calm down!" he spoke softly, but with urgency, "We really don't have too much time. Besides, I couldn't possibly expect you to understand my reasons. Go back and get the team together, check on Alpha. Protect him. That's an order. Leave the offense up to Lee Scott and I." "He's not even a Ranger, Taylor!" she complained angrily, "I could tear him apart in ten seconds with my bare hands! Do you expect him to actually fight?" "He'll do fine," he raised a hand, "I chose him specifically for his unique abilities, honest!" "He's a god dammed PRIEST!" she spoke, chuckling as if it was a joke, "Unique abilities my ass! You must have spent the last ten years on crack!" "AT EASE, Commander Kwan!" he commanded, speaking much louder, making her back away from him, snapping into a military stance, "You have no place to question my decisions! Now do as I ordered! NOW!" Commander Kwan hesitated and then frowned. She saluted, with an air of defiance about her, and marched past him. Zack stood there, keeping his authoritative look until she had gone. He sighed closing his eyes. He had now decided what to do with the remaining Rangers. He remained only a few more minutes staring at the poison river gaping ahead of him, then shifted on his heel and headed the same way the female Ranger had went. 


End file.
